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To: The Weekend

To: The Weekend from LETTER (read over SZA – The Weekend Instrumental)


This is just a flower for your fun day…

Some coffee for your Monday…

Candy when you’re craving it…

My prayer for you on Sunday…

See, you show potential of being my everything…

So when you whisper me sweet nothings…

They seem so forthcoming…

When you hum…

It makes my troubles numb…

Cum…

I’ll show you where I’m from…

Strides, with lover’s eyes, and lungs with lyrics that we’ve never sung…

Our dark holes come together to form new black soul…

We both from cities where new jacks never told…

My girl is my girl is my world…

Heard I’m her world too…

My girls is my girl is my world, heard I’m here world…

Tuesday or Wednesday, Thursday or Friday…

You make every day feel like the weekend…

It feels like 95’ every weekend…

Make me catch a vibe on the weekends…

When he hit the highway; God just sent you my way…

You just built me up where I’d been weakened…

Butterflies don’t cry; their beauty is in their wings…

But yours is in your heart, and your fears, and your tears…

And your wants, and your needs and your pain and your fears…

So spread your pretty wings, and let your dreams drift you farther…

Cause in all of my dreams, you resemble my future daughter…

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